Nearly a year ago, after our vacation to Lake Anna, I mentioned that our trip started with a 9-1-1 call, and that I’d tell the story later. My plan was that I’d make a few appointments with specialists, and after a few weeks I’d have the space and information I needed to feel comfortable telling
Thomas needs a haircut. I’m balking because I love his beautiful hair. It usually looks tousled and sweet, but occasionally looks really messy and unkempt. I know, I realize the insanity of assuming a two-year old boy ever looks anything but messy and unkempt. But there’s a difference between cute toddler unkempt and feral toddler messy.
I love summer. It is, by far, my favorite season. I love the long days, bare feet, pool parties. I love Popsicles on the porch and burgers on the grill. I love not having to keep track of my kids’ coats. This summer started out with a giant WHOMP WHOMP otherwise known as orthopedic surgery coupled with
Today I’m twenty-one weeks, two days pregnant, meaning (even if the baby is born after my due date) I’m past the pregnancy halfway point. Except that this is my fourth pregnancy and I know that the second twenty weeks packs a very serious wallop. Thirty weeks should be considered the halfway point. At least. Except
In the past year or so David has become increasingly interested in creating. He loves to draw, color, paint, cut, glue, and everything else. I love watching him, in part because a few years ago he didn’t like any of it — coloring, using stickers, or even playing with Play-Doh at all. Anytime I brought out
Eight years ago today Tom and I got married in the Blue Ridge Mountains. To celebrate, instead of following suggested tradition with a bronze gift, my mom and dad took our kids for a few days. We’ve never done this ever, never ever. Not even close. Everyone keeps asking what we plan to do with our
Thomas turned two over a month ago, but still whenever he hears the word “birthday” he immediately shouts, “IT’S MY BIRFDAY!” Nothing starts a fight in our family like someone saying it’s their birthday. Almost IMMEDIATELY Mary Virginia says, “NO IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!” and David shouts that it’s actually almost Berkley Grace’s birthday! And then
Technically, Mary Virginia’s first guess was right. Our kids have been suspecting a pregnancy for over a year (Mommy, do you have a baby in your belly? Then why is your belly so big?), and so once we found out we had another baby on the way, I was so, so excited to tell them.
This is the story of the weekend I cut my thumb. It involves a kidney stone, a block of gouda, and a surprise ending NO ONE saw coming. I’m going to try to make it as short as possible, but you know me… On the weekend of April 22 my parents came for a visit.
Since she was 15 months old, every time we go to the doctor for a well-check everyone comments on how verbal she is. It’s true, she is, and I take no credit. She could speak in complete, articulate paragraphs by 24 months and by three we were actively trying to discourage her language development. Just kidding. Kind